


Feeling Devilish

by 5oomilesmore (byathousandcuts)



Category: Zoey's Extraordinary Playlist (TV)
Genre: Drunk Dialing, F/M, Jealousy, Light Angst, inspired by drunk zoey in 2x04, takes place between 1x04 and 1x05
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-29
Updated: 2021-01-29
Packaged: 2021-03-15 21:47:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29071263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/byathousandcuts/pseuds/5oomilesmore
Summary: After a bad day at work, Zoey goes out drinking with the Brogrammers and ends up drunk dialing a certain someone.
Relationships: Zoey Clarke & Max Richman, Zoey Clarke/Max Richman
Comments: 6
Kudos: 24





	Feeling Devilish

After throwing back her third straight shot of vodka while Leif and Tobin cheered her on, Zoey twisted her face up at the burning sensation in her throat. Somehow she had ended up at Club Chaos with the entire fourth-floor programming team—save for Max, who was off somewhere hanging out with Autumn.

“Get it, Zo!” Tobin clapped her on the back good-naturedly, and Zoey was drunk enough to shoot finger guns at him in response.

“You _guys...”_ Zoey slurred, fighting through each syllable. “Are the _best_ programming team ever. Even though I don’t really like some of you, you get the job _done.”_

Some of the Brogrammers exchanged slightly affronted looks, but Zoey neither noticed nor cared. The buzz that coursed through her veins pushed aside every rational thought and feeling and left her riding a wave of numbing bliss.

“That is so funny,” Leif said after tossing back his own shot of vodka, repeating the words as if he hadn’t heard himself the first time. “That is so funny, because you’re _such_ a bad manager. Like, I was _right there_ and Joan promoted you over me. How illogical is _that?”_

“Dude, Zoey’s right there,” Tobin elbowed Leif in the side and shifted his eyes at Zoey. Though he had also downed his fair share of shots, Tobin apparently had a much higher tolerance than both Zoey and Leif.

 _“Ha,”_ Zoey forced out along with a scoff at Leif’s slight to her. “Nobody… would take _you_ seriously with all your… dumb cardigans.”

“Oh, yeah? Well, you wear too many sweaters over collared shirts!” Leif huffed, pointing a finger at Zoey accusingly. Zoey furrowed her eyebrows in response, glancing down at her work outfit: a burnt orange sweater layered over a white button-down with small blue and yellow flowers. Leif _obviously_ had no idea what he was talking about, because Zoey was _killing_ the fashion game.

“You’re just… _jealous_ … you could never pull this look off.” Zoey stuck her tongue out at Leif.

Leif looked to Tobin for moral support, but his best friend was too busy eyeing a girl on the other side of the club.

“I’m going in,” Tobin said confidently, adjusting his backward baseball cap and sauntering off towards the girl with Leif in hot pursuit.

Following their departure, Zoey clasped her hands in front of her at the bar and turned to face Jared, Gabe, and Kevin, all of whom she had barely ever spoken to despite working with them for five years. After offering them an awkward smile that didn’t reach anywhere near her eyes, Zoey watched in dismay as the Brogrammers silently nudged each other onto the dance floor, leaving her alone.

Zoey frowned, the blaring bass of the club music jolting her head with every beat. She was drunk enough to not be having the _worst_ time that night, but not drunk enough to prevent the feeling of regret that flooded her upon reflecting on where she was. Why in the world had she agreed to go out with the _Brogrammers,_ of all people? And to the _club,_ of all places?

Sitting in a daze, Zoey let her mind unravel the day’s events in lazy succession. 

It had been a long day at work, that was for sure. Joan was clearly still in a horrible mood from her split with Charlie, which culminated in her giving one of her famous speeches—though Zoey thought they were more _harangues_ than speeches—and telling all of the coders they sucked. And then Max had worried to her about his trip to Napa with Autumn, whom he had been dating for barely a month. By the time she overheard him talking on the phone to Autumn for the third time that day, Zoey had reached her wit’s end. It was after that third phone call that she had overheard Tobin announcing to the Brogrammers that it was _In Da Club_ night and made the split-second decision to invite herself. 

And now here she was, alone at the bar, too drunk to think straight but also too empty to care. Zoey sighed audibly, releasing some of the pent-up frustration from the day, and decided that it was time for her to go. After ordering a Lyft and two more shots, Zoey allowed herself to wallow a bit more in the vodka’s searing embrace before stumbling outside to wait for her car. Miraculously, she made it inside and silently thanked the Lyft Gods for sending her a car that didn’t seem too sketchy.

After a car ride during which Zoey leaned forward multiple times to talk to the driver and played with the little water bottles in the cup holder a little too much, she pulled a fifty dollar bill out of her purse and slurred out _“keep the change”_ before managing her way out of the car and slamming the door loudly behind her.

Zoey projected an air of confidence as she ascended the stairs to her apartment, stopping in front of Mo’s door and loudly whispering _“Mo! I’m suuuper drunk right now,”_ before laughing to herself. She fumbled with her key and unlocked her apartment door, sinking down on the seat right next to it in relief.

 _What to do next…_ Zoey was feeling _devilish._ She fumbled for her phone in her purse and unlocked it, tapping the contact of the one person whom she had been thinking about all day. The call went straight to voicemail.

 _“Heyyyy…._ It’s me,” Zoey giggled uncharacteristically and then sighed. “I miss your face. We never hang out anymore.” She absentmindedly twirled a tousled curl around her finger and let the rest of her thoughts pour out of her in a drunken stupor.

“Now all you do is hang out with _Autumn,”_ Zoey rolled her eyes. “And you air-spank _Autumn_ and you sing opera to _Autumn_. I miss when you used to sing to me. Do you not love me anymore?” Zoey started to sniffle, feeling the waterworks coming on. “I have a secret, but you can’t tell _anyone._ _I_ am a sucker for _you,_ mister.”

Apparently having run out of things to say, Zoey signed off on her voicemail with a quick “okay bye” and then hung up the phone. 

Suddenly overcome by a massive yawn, Zoey dragged herself into her bedroom and collapsed onto the bed, her drunken sleepiness shuttling her into a deep slumber within minutes.

The next morning, Zoey awoke with a violent pounding in her head. She groaned and dug her face into her pillow, trying to shut out the persistent rays of sunshine that floated in through her window. A split second later, Zoey’s phone alarm blared loudly. She blindly flailed her arm out to hit the snooze button but inadvertently knocked the phone off her nightstand. With the tone still ringing incessantly, Zoey forced herself to sit up, her stomach lurching as she bent down to retrieve her phone from the floor. With all her remaining strength, she managed to make it to the bathroom in time to heave up last night’s bad decisions into the toilet.

After popping two Advil and forcing herself to drink copious amounts of water, Zoey dressed for work, completing her sweater and collared shirt ensemble with a pair of dark sunglasses. The events of the past night were hazy; she remembered dragging herself to the club with the Brogrammers, but it seemed that she had blacked out on the rest of the night. Zoey hoped silently that she hadn’t done anything too stupid.

When Zoey finally walked onto the fourth floor at SPRQ Point ten minutes late, she noticed Max survey her exhausted demeanor and sunglasses with concern.

“There she is, coolest boss ever!” Tobin walked up to Zoey’s desk and offered her a fist bump, which Zoey didn’t have the energy to refuse. After Tobin retreated to his desk, Max turned his attention to Zoey.

“You went out with _them?”_ His eyes widened in surprise.

Zoey groaned, pushing her sunglasses higher onto the bridge of her nose. “That’s about all I remember from last night. I don't know what possessed me to ever think _that_ was a good idea.”

Max grinned and shook his head, swiping open his phone. _“Ha._ Looks like you left me a voicemail.”

Zoey rolled her eyes. “Probably not even worth a listen. You know I can’t make a coherent thought when I’m drunk.” 

“No, this I _have_ to listen to.” Max put the phone to his ear. His smile faltered almost instantly as he glanced over at Zoey with complete shock written all over his face. However, Zoey, with her head now slumped on her keyboard, took no notice of his reaction. She also missed the sorrowful expression on Max's face while he looked at her right before deleting the voicemail off his phone.


End file.
